


Things Are Better (when we're together)

by maybe_we_were



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bad Days, Clint Is a Good Bro, F/M, Flirting, Hurt/Comfort, Ice Cream, Playgrounds, Steve is a good friend, Tony gets mad, Upset Natasha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 11:56:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3809512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybe_we_were/pseuds/maybe_we_were
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha is having a bad day.  Steve tries to cheer her up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Playground Games

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like even though they are superheroes, they at some point probably have bad days too.  
> Stan Lee/Marvel is awesome and owns these characters.

To say Natasha’s had a bad morning is an understatement.

First, Clint accidentally broke her favorite mug in the sink, then she got a huge cut on her hand (she _maybe_ should have let Clint pick up the pieces), and now Fury has decided she _has_ to take time off from being out in the field.  This means _three days off._ There are things she could do, but she’d really rather be out on a mission.  It’s easy and fun to slip into another persona, and the cool outfits and high tech gadgets don’t hurt either.

Now, she’s stuck doing other things, and she wants to go to the gym and let off some steam, but it’s hard with one bandaged hand.  She figures she can still practice with the other hand, and changes into workout pants and a tank top before heading downstairs. 

As she opens the door, the sound of flesh hitting a solid object reaches her ears.  It’s no surprise that Steve is already there, working on what looks like his third punching bag.  His blonde hair is tousled and sweat glistens on his skin, soaking his white t-shirt, which sticks to his skin like glue.  The way his shoulders move back and forth show just how much he’s been down here. 

Leaving him to his own devices, Natasha grabs the dummy (affectionately named Loki) and pulls it to the middle of the mats before grabbing tape for her left hand.  After searching for a few minutes, she finds it in the medical box near the water cooler.  Of course, she now realizes the bandages on her right hand totally get in the way so that she can’t wrap the other.  Steve is always willing to help someone out, so she heads over to where he is hanging up his fourth punching bag. 

“Steve,” she says, trying not to startle him.  Her light footsteps make it hard to know for sure if he noticed her presence before now. 

“Hey Nat,” he replies, blue eyes focusing on hers. 

“I have a favor to ask.  Can you wrap my hand?” 

He looks confused for a few seconds before replying. 

“Sure, any particular…” 

His voice fades, hand midway reaching for the tape. 

“Wait, what happened?” his eyes now scanning her hand. 

“What do you mean?” she asks innocently, knowing full well what he means. 

“To this,” he answers, cradling her right hand in one of his. 

She knows he can do a lot of damage with his hands, as evidenced by the calluses that toughen his skin, but he holds hers carefully.  She huffs, because thinking about it makes her upset, but she knows he won’t drop it until she explains. 

“I had an accident with a broken mug.  Don’t worry, it doesn’t even need stitches.” 

Judging by the look he’s giving her, she said the wrong thing. 

“If it’s bandaged up like this, you shouldn’t be exerting yourself.”  His captain’s voice comes out, though there’s a hint of concern behind it. 

“Well, Fury gave me a few days off, so what else have I got to do?”  She’s always the stubborn one. 

Steve contemplates what she said for a few seconds before saying, “I’ve got an idea.  Meet me at the elevator in twenty minutes.  Wear something comfortable.” 

She’s about to protest, but knows it won’t do any good, so she heads in the direction of the doorway instead while Steve watches her retreating figure. 

Twenty minutes later, she’s walking to their meeting spot in a pair of loved jeans, a long-sleeved sweater, and a pair of ankle boots where Steve is already waiting.  She doesn’t say anything, just follows him into the elevator which takes them to the ground floor.  The scent of whatever cologne he uses fills her senses, and it’s then that she shifts her gaze over to him.  His hair is styled, but the rest of him is casual.  A gray t-shirt peeks out underneath his dark blue hoodie and a pair of jeans and boots finish his outfit. 

The doors open and Steve leads the way, being cryptically quiet.  Natasha catches his sleeve, pulling him to a halt.

“Where exactly are we going?” she asks.  His reply is somewhat bashful.

“Well, you seemed kind of upset.  I was thinking we should get ice cream.”  He pauses.  “At least, that’s what they do in those movies Pepper watches.  Chloe’s is only a few blocks down the street,” he shrugs.

She wants to laugh, because he’s _completely_ serious and he has this puppy dog look on his face, but it’s nice that he’s trying to make her feel better the best way he can think of. 

“Do you think they have chocolate chip cookie dough?”

He laughs, the tension leaving his face as he resumes his long strides.  “I would think so.”

They grab ice cream before heading back outside.  It’s a beautiful autumn day in the city, and they’re already out so they might as well take advantage of it.  They meander until they reach a park, where Natasha tugs on Steve’s sleeve until he follows her (not that it took much convincing).  Her first destination is the swings.  That feeling of adrenaline when you go just a bit too high is a rush, while giving a better view of the surrounding area.  For today, though, she’ll have to settle with a small glide back and forth, as to not put too much pressure on her hand. 

She places herself on the black plastic seat and pushes off the ground with her feet.  The small smile of satisfaction that graces her features doesn’t go unnoticed by Steve. 

“What’s that smile for?” he questions, standing a few feet to her right. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she teases.  Because, obviously, he did or he wouldn’t have asked. 

He shakes his head and chuckles before walking around to the back of her swing. 

“I’ve got you,” he says, his hands gently propelling her forward with a slight push.  His actions are one thing, but the way he talks is another.  There’s a tenderness in his voice, much different than his somewhat authoritarian and concerned voice earlier.  He pushes a few times before his warm hand catches a bare spot on the small of her back that the sweater didn’t cover.  She sucks a breath in and hopes he didn’t hear it. 

How can one accidental brush of skin make her feel so weird?

 Natasha would rather not think about it, so she lets her feet drag on the ground, halting her movement.  To hide the sudden change in the air, she points at the slide a few yards away. 

“You don’t want to try that?” she asks, trying to ease the tension with some humor.

“I’d probably get stuck in the damn thing,” he replies, his lips quirking up a little.

Now she’s the one laughing, and it feels good, especially when his laughter joins hers.  His laugh is deep and rich and full, and she’d like to know why she doesn’t hear it very often and how she can get him to do it more. 

Once they quiet down, he asks if she is ready to go, and they head towards the exit.  They are almost there when she sees the merry-go-round.  She hesitates for a split second, because she loves them, other than being dizzy. 

“Go on, get on it,” Steve says, breaking her out of her train of thought. 

“What?” she asks, her mind still not caught up with his. 

“The merry-go-round.  You get on and I’ll push,” he says kindly. 

She tosses a smile his way, wondering if the serum gave him mind-reading abilities, too, before bolting to the old playground toy.  After hopping on and securing herself with her good hand, Steve begins pushing it by the bars on the sides.  His super strength makes it spin pretty fast, his body just a blur each time it comes full circle. 

It only takes a few minutes for her to get to the point where she has to get off.  Using a handlebar, she lowers her feet to the ground.  The sudden rush of vertigo is too much and she almost falls flat on her face, but Steve’s at her side in an instant, tucking her under his arm. 

“Are you alright?” 

She takes a deep breath in and nods, feeling her face flush slightly at the close contact. 

“Yeah, my hand is bothering me, that’s all,” she lies. 

He raises an eyebrow, and she can’t really read the expression on his face. 

“Ok.  Let’s get you back to the tower.” 

It’s a five minute walk that goes quickly and before she knows it, they are in the elevator going up to the communal floor.  They’re a few floors from it when Steve says, “Ya know, I don’t think it was your hand that was the problem, back there at the merry-go-round.” 

She looks over and gives him a hard stare.  He should know by now that she’s not going to let him get by easily. 

“Yeah? And what makes you think that?” 

“You started acting strange after I pushed you on the swing,” he says, just as the elevator door opens. 

“Did it …did it have to do with how close we were?” he asks, and her mouth drops open. 

She’s a bit stunned and is about to make up some sort of excuse when she hears tapping.  Tapping?  Looking in the direction of the sound, she sees Tony staring the two of them down, his arms folded across his chest.  And he almost looks…mad? 

He points a finger at them. 

“You guys went for ice cream without me?”


	2. Nothing to Lose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve just couldn't leave things alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to the lovely comments on the first chapter, I decided to add an epilogue. Happy Sunday! :)

The past week has been interesting, to say the least. 

After Tony thankfully interrupted her and Steve last week, “ _Seriously, guys, my favorite dessert and you didn’t even bring some back?  How could you?  What about those old fashioned manners, Spangles?  I expected it from her, but you?!_ ,” Natasha’s been doing her best to act like everything is normal.  Which it definitely _isn’t_. 

She ended up talking about her strange feelings with Clint who, unbeknownst to her, felt like there has been something between her and Steve for a long time, but both were either too clueless or too stubborn to admit it.  _That_ earned him a glare and a strong punch to the shoulder.  As he walked away, rubbing the soon-to-be black and blue spot, he said, “Just do something about it.” 

Not exactly what she wanted to hear. 

So instead, she’s been hanging out with Steve and pretending nothing happened.  Steve seemed content to do the same, although he wouldn’t let her do much until her hand was fully healed.  This meant helping her with cooking, cleaning, picking up objects, even re-wrapping bandages.  She’s not helpless, and he knows that, but she also knows that if she even _mentioned_ doing things on her own, he’d be upset because all he wants to do is help. 

Luckily, it only lasted a few days and she’s now bandage free. 

Tonight, they’re over in his suite, eating Chinese food while watching Casablanca.  She picks up a piece of General Tso’s chicken and pops it in her mouth, a satisfied sigh escaping her lips. 

“That good, huh?” Steve asks, trying some of the lo mein that’s on his plate. 

He hasn’t really had a chance to try all the different kinds of Chinese food, so of course they ordered _a lot_ off the menu.  They’ll probably be eating it for days. 

She raises an eyebrow in disbelief. 

“You’ve never had General Tso’s?  Here, you have to try this.” 

She holds out a piece of chicken on her chopsticks and Steve opens his mouth, letting her guide it in before he closes his mouth and chews.  He must really like it, because he lets out an appreciative moan. 

The sound goes right though her, and she can feel a flush coming over her face.  She clears her throat a little, which only draws his attention to her. 

“Are you ok? You look a little warm,” he asks, clueless.

“I’m _fine_ , Steve,” she says, a little harsher than she intended. 

The blood running through her body betrays her and even more rushes to her face.  Steve definitely notices this time and it’s like a light bulb clicks on over his head. 

“Are you blushing??” he questions, trying to hold back a smile. 

“ _No_ ,” she says forcefully, “it’s warm in here.” 

“Really…” he replies, clearly not buying it, “because the central air is on.  Nat, what’s going on?  Is this because of last week?” 

He puts his plate down on the table in front of them and angles his body more towards hers to show she has his full attention. 

“Steve, just drop it,” she says in the most serious and scary voice she can muster, before pushing her plate on to the table as well. 

He’s quiet for a few seconds and she almost thinks it worked, before she hears “No,” come out of his mouth. 

“No, I can’t drop it.  I’m a pretty straight forward guy.  I don’t like to play games, I don’t like to make things complicated.  I want to try it, a relationship.  With you.  And only you.  It’s as simple as that.” 

His blue eyes bore into hers and she hates that he can make her put her heart on her sleeve with his honesty.  She can’t even believe she’s doing this, but a little voice in the back of her head (that sounds suspiciously like Clint) tells her if she’s going to say something, now is the time.  And since he's being honest with her...

“You’re right, ok?  I've had thoughts, about you and me.  No matter what I do, they won’t go away.  Are you happy?” she says sarcastically, covering her face with her hands. 

“Happy?” his voice catches. 

“ _Ecstatic.”_  

His fingers pull hers down and he leans in so close that their breath mingles with each other’s.  She bites her bottom lip before running her tongue over it, and Steve’s eyes darken.  His mouth opens and he looks like he’s about to ask permission to kiss her, but before he can, she says “Kiss me,” in this breathless voice and that’s enough. 

One hand reaches up and curls around her neck while the other links with her free hand.  His lips touch hers briefly before he pulls back a little.  The second time he presses his mouth to hers, it starts out soft before something snaps. 

Then he’s kissing her harder, deeper, nipping on her bottom lip before running his tongue over it to soothe the sting.  She tries to stand up from the couch so she can straddle his lap, but he must have other ideas because he gets up without breaking the kiss and presses her against the wall.  Warm hands skate up and down her sides, over the small of her back, and down the back of her thighs.  He puts them to use and pulls her legs up so they wrap around his waist while Natasha runs her fingers through his short hair. 

Steve moves towards the kitchen, setting her down on counter with him standing between her legs, his hands on the counter on either side of her.  He pulls away from her lips and leans back a little.  She takes in his red lips and tousled hair. 

“Stay with me tonight?” he asks, blue eyes sincere. 

How could she say no to that?

She puts on this face that makes it look like she’s actually debating it before saying, “Only if there’ll be pancakes in the morning.” 

She smirks, just to make sure he knows she was teasing.  The smile that lights up his face is unforgettable. 

“I think that can be arranged,” he says, and carries her back over to the couch to finish their movie. 

 

* * *

 

She wakes up the next morning in Steve’s bed, wrapped in an old t-shirt that smells like him.  Steve walks back into the bedroom in a t-shirt and a pair of boxers, holding a fork and plate full of pancakes in his hands. 

“Had to keep my promise,” he quips, sitting down next to her on the bed and setting the plate in her waiting hands. 

She places the plate on this nightstand, and Steve tilts his head in confusion. 

“I would have stayed without them, but it’s nice that you made them,” she states, before gripping the front of his shirt and pulling him in for a kiss.


End file.
